


Rough Love

by mychemicallyromance



Series: Fluff/Smut!Verse [5]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Classroom Sex, M/M, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4918732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mychemicallyromance/pseuds/mychemicallyromance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In one of his favorite fantasies, Frank was in Mr. Way’s very same classroom, pant was splattered everywhere, and Frank had imagined that Mr. Way was young and a virgin, not so sure about his sexuality instead of this flaming homosexual they call a teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rough Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jatty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jatty/gifts).



> so this one-shot just popped into my mind once Jatty told me to write it, and over facebook me and her talked about it. she wanted me to write it and i enjoyed writing it, and although this isn't my ***NEW*** fic that I'm wanting to write, it's still a good fic that i liked writing (in less than 24 hours), anyway, i hope you enjoy!!

It was four o’clock on a Friday, and somehow Frank managed to get himself into detention in Art 2—which was the _easiest_ fucking class on Frank’s schedule, it made no sense on how he had made it to detention. Maybe it was because of all those curse words and spit balls while talking about “fucking bitches after school” to his friends or maybe it was the fact that Frank had this huge crush on Mr. Way that made him do stupid shit just so he could get his attention, even if it was negative attention.

“Mr. Iero, detention,—see me after eighth period,” Mr. Way said before he had sat down to let the students do their projects.

Frank huffed and scowled at Mr. Way, and then looked at his friends who were drawing miniscule penises—penises that didn’t look like actual penises, but Frank wasn’t stupid, he knew what those shapes his immature friends were drawing, and soon enough they were going to get in trouble—Frank too.

“Are you going to that stupid detention?” Thomas asked.

“Obviously I have to,” Frank groaned.

“Really, Iero?—fuck Mr. Way, you don’t have to listen to him,” another one of Frank’s friends said.

“There’s nothing I can do,” Frank said, getting up and leaving the classroom when the bell rang.

XXX

Eighth period seem to come quicker than Frank’s liking—he wasn’t ready to stay after school to only be bitched at by his mother afterwards. Frank liked Mr. Way—but Frank was pissed that he got in trouble when his ‘friends’ didn’t, how _fair_ , right? Frank sighed and slumped down in his seat with his head lying on the desk.

“Since you’re in here for the next half-hour, you’re going to do some work,” Mr. Way said to Frank, making him prop his chin on his hands to listen to Mr. Way.

Mr. Way is attractive—there was no doubt about that no matter how much of an asshole he really is, but with his looks came his attitude and that was the part that pissed Frank off. How can someone so attractive be such an asshole? Frank hated girls and guys like that, especially if it was someone _he_ liked.

“What the hell is your problem, Way?” Frank snapped after seeing piles of paper just for Frank to grade. “All of this is your shit!”

“Yes, and you seem to have nothing to do,” Mr. Way said, chuckling and smirking at the whining noise that came out of Frank’s throat. “What a great way to keep a young mind’s occupied.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Frank scowled at Mr. Way, hating how self-absorbed he was, how fucking ignorant, and rude he was. God his presence was pissing him off.

“Excuse me?” Mr. Way cleared his throat. “Watch your language, Iero.”

 

_TEN MINUTES LATER_

It hadn’t even been twenty minutes yet and Frank was losing his mind. Mr. Way was doing everything just to get under Frank’s nerves—humming, singing, making squeaky noises, or talking to himself, and it was the most annoying thing and it reminded him of a five-year-old trying to get some attention, whether that be positive or negative attention.

“Will you _stop_?” Frank groaned, throwing the pencil and paper down.

“It’s my classroom,” Mr. Way said absently. “I can do whatever I want.”

In the next few minutes, Frank had snapped and had Mr. Way on the ground. It surprised Frank that he had snapped so much he had his teacher on the ground, but kind of excited whatever twisted part of him, and he wanted to hurt— _hurt Mr. Way_.

“What are you doing?” Mr. Way groaned, trying to escape from beneath Frank, but surprising enough to him, Frank was stronger. “Get off!”

“No,” Frank said. “You’re gonna listen to me, Mr. Way, and you’re gonna listen good.”

“ _What?!_ ” Mr. Way whined again, trying to roll Frank off of him.

Frank laughed; digging his fingernails into Mr. Way’s back and then instantly hearing him cry out was pleasure to Frank’s ears. “Since _day one_ , you’ve been nothing but a _pretentious asshole_ to all of us!” he spat, “and I’m fucking sick of it, you hear me?”

“Yes,” Mr. Way mumbled. “Frank, I—”

Frank grabbed a handful of Mr. Way’s blonde hair and tilted his head back, making their eyes lock. And at that moment, Frank realized that Mr. Way looked scared, and honestly, Frank didn’t care—he wanted to hurt Mr. Way, make Mr. Way feel how Frank has always felt, even in his sick fantasies.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Mr. Way,” Frank spat in his face. “Right here, right now—I’m the fuckin’ boss, ya got it?”

“Yes.” Mr. Way nodded. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know!—But, honestly…I haven’t figure it out yet, what a shame.”

When Frank would have his fantasies, they’d get brutal, and that’s one of the many reasons he kept it dreams, and nothing more—even if he wasn’t satisfied with sex. During his fantasies, Frank would be assaulting whoever he was attracted to, and recently it’s been all about Mr. Way—poor son of a bitch.

In one of his favorite fantasies, Frank was in Mr. Way’s very same classroom, pant was splattered everywhere, and Frank had imagined that Mr. Way was young and a virgin, not so sure about his sexuality instead of this flaming homosexual they call a teacher. And that Frank was the one who was a teacher, and after a lesson poor little Mr. Way had a question, maybe, and Frank wound up taking care of little Mr. Way’s…”problem.” By the time the fantasy was finished, Mr. Way was sobbing, beaten, confused, and bloody as he cried his way home.

Frank sighed happily as he slowly pulled Mr. Way’s shirt up, admiring the pudginess around his hips that turned Frank on even more. Frank gasped when he seen fingerprints on Mr. Way’s hips—they weren’t from Frank.

“Who marked you?” Frank asked.

“My…my boyfriend,” Mr. Way mumbled.

“Such a slut,” Frank muttered, taking off his jacket and tied the sleeves around Mr. Way’s wrists and then to the legs of the desks.

Frank slid Mr. Way’s pants and boxers off, admiring the pale skin against Frank’s dark skin, and it was such a fucking turn on to see Mr. Way squirming, pleading, and sad as to what Frank was doing. Frank wasn’t going to stop it, though.

“Please stop, Frank,” Mr. Way said, trying to sound forceful instead of weak, but it didn’t work, and Frank ignored it even if he was forceful.

“No.” Frank stood up and started undressing himself, admiring the way Mr. Way just lay on the ground, waiting for Frank and his cock.

Frank stroked his half-hard cock as he admired Mr. Way’s pale ass, and pale body, and the way he was whining and pleading with Frank to just let him go and no one would hear about this detention—but that’s not what was going to make Frank feel better.

Frank sunk back down to his knees and covered his three fingers in spit to use as lube. Frank sunk one finger into Gerard’s tight hole, pressing in and out to stretched him a little before sticking another finger in, and then  another.

Mr. Way began kicking his heels at Frank, but Frank ignored it—he just kept cooing at Gerard and pumping his fingers in and out, admiring the way his hole was sucking them in and out. After the third finger, Frank pumped his fingers a little longer and then slowly dragged them out, earning a hiss from the older man.

“You ready for my cock, Mr. Way?” Frank said, continuing to stroke himself and fish out an “emergency” condom out of his wallet.

“Please just let me go—!” Mr. Way begged but got cut off when Frank ranked his head back.

“No.” Frank kissed Mr. Way’s forehead, spreading Mr. Way’s cheeks and gently pushed his cock inside. Frank gasped at the heat and tightness, as for Mr. Way who gasped out in pain.

Frank gently thrusted his cock in and out before he thought Mr. Way enough time to adjust. Frank’s next thrusts were hard, beyond caring for himself or the other man, and it just felt _so good_. However, there was one thing missing from his fantasies, and that was _blood_. Frank yanked Mr. Way’s blonde hair back again, making their eyes lock, and then Frank noticed _how_ scared he looked and he had tears running down his cheeks.

“You like my cock, Mr. Way?” Frank asked, slowing his thrusts on a little bit to keep their eyes locked well.

“No—”

“No?” Frank asked, raising an eyebrow even though he knew why Mr. Way didn’t like it. Frank yanked Mr. Way’s hair again, hearing Mr. Way groan only pleased Frank, and before Mr. Way could ask him to stop, Frank slammed his head on the floor, and Frank smiled madly when he heard a crack and his teacher cry out.

“I’ll tell!” Mr. Way threatened.

Frank pulled almost all the way out. “You’ll tell, huh?—well, you see here, Way,” Frank began, “the administrations, well, they’ll believe me over anything. You realize that, though, right? Some mean old art teacher gave me a detention; only way to make it go away was for some fucking. Tsk tsk.”

“I can tell the police!”

“Oh, yeah?—who the hell are they going to believe? Me!” Frank slammed back in, hurting him and Mr. Way, over and over again. “I can cause scratched from me, maybe I’ll let you come all over my clothing—sound good?”

“Why are you doing this?!”

“No reason…besides the fact that you’re such an asshole.”

Frank slammed Mr. Way’s head against the floor again before thrusting, feeling something slick besides spit against his dick, and noticing it was blood. The sight and smell of blood making him closer to his finish that any of the body clenching and the sound of Mr. Way’s sobs.

The tightening in Frank’s abdomen became present and he knew it was going to rip through him, and he wanted to make this the best fuck he’s had in a long time. Each time Mr. Way whined or begged to stop, Frank slammed in harder but before he came, he pulled out, ripped off his condom, threw it in the bin, and yanked Gerard’s bloody face up.

Frank smiled as he pushed his cock threw Mr. Way’s split, bloody lips, and he moaned when he felt the wetness against his cock. Mr. Way kept whining each time Frank thrusted his cock in and out of his mouth, and before he spurted into Mr. Way’s mouth, Frank pulled back, jerked off until he was coming all over his fist and Mr. Way’s face, some of his come hitting Mr. Way’s chin, and if he could get it up again so soon, he would.

Frank smiled, untied Mr. Way and grabbed tissues to clean his face. “You’re not going to tell a soul,” Frank warned.

Mr. Way kept silent except for the occasional hiss or whine from pain, and finally Frank pressed a final kiss to Mr. Way’s scratched forehead. “You’ll be okay,” Frank said, leaving Mr. Way there, naked and confused as to what just happened.

“See you on Monday,” Frank said before leaving, not turning around to look at Mr. Way and his reaction.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments?  
> Twitter: mychemicallyrom
> 
> I do requests!!!!


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